Faith and Loyalty
by elfmaiden4legs
Summary: Set during Season 3, Locke makes it back to the beach after Ben shoots him. There he is treated by Jack for his wounds! This one has been a long time in writing, and I hope that you enjoy!


**Faith And**** Loyalty**

**This story has actually been in writing for several years NOW and goes back to the period where in Season 3 Ben shot Locke! In my story Locke makes it back to the beach where Jack treats him for his wounds. This is only my third Lost story and my first in about 2 years now, and, although I am a major fan of the series, this took me so long to write that I never really thought I'd end up completing it... so I hope you enjoy, and please don't forget to REVIEW!**

Locke could feel the searing pain stemming from the exposed wound in his abdomen, making it difficult for him to breathe. His chest was consumed with a dull ache and his limbs riddled with fatigue as he put one unsteady foot in front of the other, the sweat pouring from his brow as blood seeped through the ragged tear in his t-shirt and congealed between the shaky fingers of his left hand, sticking the split and fraying fibres of his encrusted cotton clothing to the mangled flesh of his torso.

It had taken him most of the previous day and a large majority of the evening to reach camp again and much of his already depleted strength had been further sapped during the ascent from the pit in which Ben had left him for dead, leaving him feeling lethargic and drained. He hadn't been sure whether he had strength enough left to cover the distance required at first, and knowing what he knew about shot gun wounds he realised that his ordeal was far from over yet.

As he finally burst through the jungle however, and saw the familiar expanse of beach stretch out before him he knew that he had made it… so far at least. His vision swam in and out of focus as he slowly began to give in to unconsciousness, and a sudden nausea gripped him making him double over, heaving in pain. However, with this, a small group of survivors further down towards the shoreline were suddenly alerted to his presence as an involuntary cry, strained and fraught, escaped him, and Locke was immediately relieved to see that Sayid, closely followed by Bernard, were amongst the few familiar faces who began to make their way towards him. Dizziness finally overcame him as Sayid approached however and he collapsed backwards onto the sand, clutching at the raw and open wound still oozing blood through his stained and sodden clothing.

"Locke." The young man exclaimed in shock as he observed the exhausted condition of the man now laying before him, turning back urgently towards Bernard. "Get Jack!" He shouted, his tone conveying his evident shock and the graveness of the situation, before kneeling down beside Locke's weakened form. The man's pulse was racing, his skin pale with loss of blood, and clammy with the fever of pain. "What happened?" He demanded.

"What's the matter with him?" Bernard asked, finally catching up with Sayid and bending down beside him, having rapidly spread the word to the rest of the group that they needed Jack up here immediately.

"Ben…" Locke began to explain as Sayid gently tried to stifle the man's groans of sever pain, before turning back to examine the wound.

He winced in further discomfort as Sayid cautiously removed the clasped hand which he still had pressed tightly against the bullet's point of entry, in an attempt to stem the flow of blood. But Locke forced himself to continue, speaking between short, shallow breaths, which provided only temporary relief from the sharp burning that was now spreading rapidly through his entire chest and abdomen.

"Ben… shot me…" He managed to explain at last, faltering tensely as he writhed under Sayid's intense examination. The young man took one look at the excruciating wound and paled.

"We need to get him back to Jack!" He turned urgently to Bernard. His military training had taught him enough basic first aid skills to spot the potential severity of Locke's injury when he saw it. The bruised and tender flesh of the left side of Locke's abdomen highlighted the chance that he may have sustained some significant internal damage, although the extent of which Sayid could not be sure, and the surrounding area was encrusted with dry blood, sweat and dirt leaving him open to infection. "Locke," Sayid ventured gravely to ask after a moment, "do you think you can walk if we help you?"

"I would think so." Locke nodded.

In truth he had made it this far, unsure as to how far he had really travelled in his exhausted state, although he wasn't sure for how much longer he could carry on.

"Right, Bernard you take one side and I'll take the other. Ready?" Sayid asked as they both prepared to help Locke to stand. Bernard, who had Locke grasped tightly beneath his left shoulder blade, in the hollow of his armpit nodded uncertainly before Locke somehow managed to manoeuvre _himself_ upright, transferring his full weight to the steady forms of the two men standing either side of him. A sudden cry of determination escaped him as his knees buckled however; engulfing his body in pain, and Sayid and Bernard helped him to his feet.

Jack met the group half way, a little further on up the beach. Locke had proven himself significantly stronger than Sayid had initially thought, insisting that he could walk independently for most of the way, only needing the two men on hand to steady him in his weakened state, when he threatened to stumble or fall.

It became increasingly apparent however that he had continued to loose a significant amount of blood from both the entry and exit wounds penetrating his upper abdomen and back, even more so since they had started their arduous trek up the beach, and both were relieved when they were finally able to let Locke rest a little as they set him down heavily upon the sand… his dirt streaked hand reaching immediately for his throbbing and blood soaked back.

Even Sayid, with his characteristic strength, Bernard a little less so, felt dangerously out of his depth… haunted by the potential severity, and the knowledge of the complications that could arise from such wounds. Yet having not the medical knowledge to treat one of this scale.

Jack looked as set minded and professional as ever, exuberating an air of quiet confidence and determination as he made his way up the beach.

"What happened?" He asked as he approached.

"He says he's been shot." Sayid explained, indicating Locke and the wound to the other mans side as he spoke, as Jack bent down beside the older man, removing his heavy backpack as he did so.

"Jack…" Locke groaned.

Without hesitation Jack leant down beside him in an instant, recoiling in disgust as he got his first glance of the severity of the wound, before gently working to prise the frayed and sodden material away from the mangled flesh of the bullets entry and exit wounds, and carefully lifting it over Locke's head. Locke whimpered, his legs kicked out in all direction's as the young doctor continued to probe at the wound, until Sayid gently restrained him from the knees, applying a surprisingly gentle and yet somehow vice like pressure to both of Locke's aching leg joints, making it impossible for him to move.

"I'm sorry John." Jack apologised, putting a heavy palm to the other man's forehead in order to check his temperature with this, before turning urgently to Sayid and Bernard. "We need to get him under some shelter." He remarked urgently at this, feeling the fire of Locke's fever. Before delving into the depths of his backpack, brimming with an array of medications and medical equipment, with this, and removing an uncapped hypodermic syringe, still sealed within its sterile packaging, and a vile of clear liquid. Next he pored a few drops of alcohol solution onto a slab of cotton wool, which he tore from a substantial role of the loose fibre, and massaged Locke's upper, right shoulder, tearing the plastic seal of the needle's packaging, and uncapping the syringe with his teeth, before filling it with a few ml's of the clear liquid and injecting it into Locke's arm. This entire process lasted no more than a few seconds, and Locke flinched noticeably as the sharp needle pierced his skin. "That should help with the pain at any rate." Jack explained kindly, before then removing a stethoscope from the far front pocket of the backpack and placing the small metallic plate to Locke's skin, taking a few long moments to carefully listen to Locke's chest and abdomen, examining his patient carefully, and eyeing his pale features with great concern, although apparently relieved to have found that Locke's vital signs were still strong… at least with the discovery of the other's camp, and their far greater facilities, the group's previously dwindling medical supplies were now far more ample, Locke thought feverishly in his increasingly confused state. He closed his eyes, exhausted, hearing Jack turn to Sayid and Bernard at his side.

"He's lost a lot of blood." He heard the young doctor explain. "His heart rate is rapid, and he's in a lot of pain… did he give any indication who'd done this to him?" Jack asked.

"Ben…" Locke murmured.

Sayid nodded. "He said that Ben had shot him." He explained.

"Did he say why?" Jack enquired with this, but Sayid shook his head unable to give the young man any further information. Suddenly Locke let out a muffled groan however, a fevered exhale of breath, which gave Jack obvious cause for concern as the young doctor was leaning over him in an instant.

"Locke, Locke can you hear me?" He asked, rubbing the length of Locke's arm as well as the back of his surprisingly cool hands vigorously, and removing a small torch from his pocket, and, gently lifting the older man's eyelids, shining the light into his eyes, checking for a pupil response. "Stay with me." He encouraged.

"I can hear you." Locke murmured.

"You've lost a lot of blood." Jack explained. "And I won't lie to you John, I'm very concerned about the location of the wound… you may have sustained some significant internal trauma…"

"If… if you're worried about the location of the wound because of my kidney…" Locke wheezed, struggling to explain, "I had a kidney removed a few years ago…" He coughed, hearing as Jack unscrewed the cap of one of the many water bottles which he usually carried about with him at this, the trickle of freely flowing water, before feeling as the doctor firmly pressed something cold and wet against his burning forehead… Locke leaned gratefully into the cold compress with this, hearing as yet another set of more gentle footsteps approached.

"How is he?" Juliet asked.

"Ben shot him!" He heard Sayid turn accusingly to the young woman with this however, and everything suddenly went silent, a fraught cloud immediately descending upon the small group with the young medic's presence.

"Hey… hey… ssss not her fault." Locke slurred, before his whole body was suddenly wracked by another wave of intense pain as he felt Jack's hands return to the wound in his side, gently trying to clean away much of the dirt and dry blood which had had hours in which to congeal at the point of the lesion. He let out a strained cry, his own palm's forming fists as he punched the bed of sand on which he now lay, before Juliet quickly grasped one pale wrist, gently prising open his fingers with this and wrapping her own substantially smaller, and more delicate female palm around his… instructing Bernard to do the same.

"Get his other hand." She indicated, before turning back to Locke. "Shhhh." She coaxed, as he felt Jack remove the cold compress at his forehead, replacing it with his own clammy palm to check on the state of his fever. He shook his head despairingly, emitting a deep sigh.

"John we're going to have to move you." He explained, before turning to Juliet. "Can you help me get him into one of the tents?" He asked.

"Of course." She responded, nodding. A small reassuring smile spreading across her delicate features with this, and Jack returned the gesture, albeit briefly. He immediately reached once again for his rucksack, removing another, fresh, sterile syringe and vile of slightly thick, milky, liquid with this.

"What's that?" Locke asked, slightly alarmed as he watched Jack pop the cap and fill the hypodermic with a small amount of the milky substance.

"It's a sedative." Jack explained calmly as he quickly and expertly located the same vein in Locke's arm into which he had earlier injected the painkiller, and drained the syringe of its contents. "You'll start to feel a little drowsy soon." He explained. "It'll just make it easier for us to examine you if you're asleep." Before continuing, "Do you think you can you move John?" The young doctor enquired gently, turning back to his patient, and Locke nodded.

"Jack…" He strained, as the young man and Juliet wrapped their arms firmly, although carefully around his ribs with this, throwing his arms gently across their shoulders for extra support, before attempting to lift his prostrate form. "I… I… had a kidney removed a few years ago." He echoed his earlier words feverishly, as he suddenly began to shiver, the mild island breeze cool against his bare and exposed shoulders.

"And that may very well prove to be a saving grace John." Jack explained, "But we need to get you under some cover now, and take a look at you first." He immediately placed a reassuring hand against his patient's shoulder with this however, in order to steady him, as Locke suddenly tried to pull away from the two medics who'd now positioned themselves either side of him, and Sayid, who'd previously taken a step back from the situation in order to give Jack more room in which to examine Locke, suspected that the older man would want to make the rest of the journey down the beach alone, unaided. "Woah, take it easy!" Jack eased however.

"I'm alright Jack." Locke assured him. "I can walk!" Although, despite the determination behind Locke's statement there was something about the tone of his voice which unnerved Jack slightly… something weaker than he was used to hearing from the other man, and he refused to loose his grip from around Locke's torso.

"I'm sorry John, but I can't let you do that I'm afraid!" He apologised. "That sedative I've just given you has a fast acting compound… it should begin to start to take effect soon, and you could do yourself more harm than good at the moment if you were to fall or stumble, especially if you were to land on your injured side. Not to mention the pain you would be in!"

Locke's eyes met with the young medics with this as he exhaled in a strained sigh, but nodded his head in reluctant resignation. His side throbbed painfully as he placed one foot gingerly in front of the other, each tentative step bringing on another shock of electric pain, as the burning rose in his chest until he couldn't take it any longer. Locke let out an anguished cry, hot tears stinging his eyes as he doubled over clutching his aching abdomen as the rising tide of nausea suddenly hit him, and he dry heaved onto the sand. Jack however remained calm, under the circumstances, as he and Juliet lowered the older man back down onto the sand.

"Jack, my chest, I can't breath!" Locke gasped, in between the violent convulsions of his stomach, Juliet massaged soothing circles across his back, and from shoulder to shoulder, although Locke's vision had already started to fade around the edges, light-headedness making him drowsy, and the rush of urgent activity around him suddenly became a blur. The next thing he knew was the sharp pinch of the needle as Jack injected a third dose of medication into a vein in the back of Locke's hand.

"Shhhh." Jack reassured him as Locke grimaced, "I've just administered an anti-nausea drug…" He explained. "you should start to feel better soon! We'll let you rest here." He continued. "The sedative should begin to start to take effect soon… you'll feel drowsy, light-headed, let me know when that happens, and me and Juliet can carry you the rest of the distance down the beach to the tent once you're asleep… it's not too far."

"No!" Locke threw his hand up, adamant in his protest at this however, as he struggled against Jack and Juliet's restraint to get to his feet. "I'm alright… just give me a moment to let the drugs take effect… I want to walk."

Locke sighed at Jack's uncertain and disapproving look at this, "I'll let you walk with me… just steady me if you think I might need it… but please, just let me walk. Spare me this one small dignity!" He pleaded.

Jack took a moment to observe Locke; his skin was pale, his breathing raged, and the wound in his side was still oozing blood at an alarming rate… he didn't think, based on the man's current physical condition, that he could even make it the short distance down the beach to the tent before he was likely to pass out, either through blood loss, or the meds… but finally he nodded in agreement.

"Alright." He sighed at last. "But I want you to take it easy, take your time, and let me know if at anytime you don't feel you can continue… don't push yourself. We'll assist you."

Locke cried out again as they helped him to his feet, although seemed to recover his composure somewhat after a few moments, and the small group started with their steady trek up the beach, both Jack and Juliet's arms lightly wrapped around Locke's waist, his own arms thrown over their shoulders.

Sayid followed the small group, Bernard remaining a few yards behind, the older man seeming to consider it disrespectful to intrude upon another man's pain, particularly when he seemed so reluctant to allow others to witness his current weakness. He witnessed them stop momentarily on a couple of occasions, presumably to allow Locke time to rest and compose himself, before continuing… when they were finally a matter of feet away from the tent, Locke stumbled slightly as the meds started to kick in, but he made it the entire way… before he collapsed.

…

An hour later Jack emerged from the tent, hands stained red with dried blood as he wiped them gingerly on a spare piece of cloth, before observing Sayid's silhouette in the setting tropical sun where he'd sat just a little further down the beach, close to the shoreline, allowing the easy flowing tide of salt water to gently wash over his bare toes.

"How is he?" Sayid asked, getting to his feet as the young doctor slowly approached.

"I've stitched and bound the wound, and cleaned it as best I can," Jack explained, "but I've had to fit a drain in order to drain any discharge and potential infection away from the wound…" He sighed, "he's got a long and painful recovery ahead of him I'm afraid, and there may be need for some physical therapy as time goes on in order to help him recover some loss of strength… but we'll know more when he wakes up."

"But he'll be alright… eventually?" Sayid faltered.

"He's still very sick… I've got him heavily sedated for now so he can rest, and give his body time to recover, but he'll survive." Jack smiled. "He was lucky… the bullet entered his body where his left kidney should have been… had he not have had it previously removed he would have probably bled out before he made it back to the beach… even in the event that he'd made it this far there'd have been nothing I could do for him."

Sayid nodded. Bernard, noticing the two as he emerged from one of the tents further up the incline of the beach, approached, one arm locked affectionately around the waist of his wife, Rose, as she returned her husband's embrace. She smiled affectionately in greeting at Jack as they neared the small group.

"Jack?" The young doctor turned as another, softer, female voice interrupted them at this however, Juliet had suddenly appeared from the tent Jack had recently vacated. "He's sleeping now." She explained with a small smile as she met with his gaze.

He nodded.

"He's stable for now." She continued. "But he's going to need somebody to keep an eye on him. He's not likely to wake up for the next few hours at least… would you like me to…"

"No…" Jack faltered suddenly, cutting her off. "No… it's alright, you get some rest. I'll keep an eye on him." He replied thoughtfully.

She smiled with this. "Thank you." She responded, before Jack turned to make his way back up the beach to check on his patient.

"Jack?" Bernard suddenly called after him however, and the other man turned with an enquiring gaze… he paused only briefly to glance from Juliet and back to the other doctor, before continuing. "Let us know when he wakes up?" The older man asked.

Jack paused briefly, before sighing. He simply smiled with this, nodding silently, before the small group watched as he ascend the steep incline… before finally disappearing back inside the blue tarpaulin of Locke's tent, where they knew that it was important that he wasn't to be disturbed.


End file.
